


What do you call a guy who shrinks?

by Laimelde



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 16:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6862600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laimelde/pseuds/Laimelde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene fic from the end of Civil War. Set just after Steve & Bucky rescuing everyone from the Raft..</p><p>For Scott, working with ants was an everyday occurrence, but he sort of forgot that the Avengers didn't know about it. It just hadn't come up during the fight at Leipzig airport, y'know?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What do you call a guy who shrinks?

Even after the (mostly successful) mission to stop Darren Cross, Hope and Dr Pym had been on Scott to keep sharpening his skills, through bruising training sessions with Hope, perfecting size changes with the suit, and - most importantly - practising controlling the ants. After all, being able to shrink and grow and fight was only part of it; Scott was well aware the mission at PymTech wouldn't have stood a chance without the ants.

So he kept working at it, and over hours spent practising, he gradually developed fine control. And then Hope had him work on doing it more effortlessly, as she could. And when on a sunny afternoon, he absently used the ants to block the sun from streaming in the window while he worked on his laptop, Hope's smile was full of pride.

The ants were a part of their everyday life, to the point that when Scott agreed to help out Falcon and Captain America, he kind of forgot that the Avengers didn't know about them. And it didn’t really come up. He didn’t need them in the fight at Leipzig airport, and there were none in the Raft where they’d been held until Steve and Bucky arrived to break them out.

Steve took the group to a safe house and told them to settle in while he made some calls, then retreated to another room. Bucky immediately headed for the armchair in the corner, having already made clear that he wasn’t interested in conversation. Scott shrugged and flung himself onto the sun-warmed sofa, always ready for a nap. Sam and Wanda headed for the dining table.

“Isn’t anyone hungry?” asked Clint. “No? Great. Anything in the kitchen is mine.”

They sat in tired quiet, broken only by the sound of Clint rummaging through the fridge and cupboards. “There’s a heap of soda cans in the fridge. Cold too,” he reported. “Otherwise empty. And this cupboard is… empty. And this one… ooh, cereal.” More rummaging, then a loud crunch. “Hmm. Stale, but otherwise okay. And there’s half a jar of honey here, although it’s kinda crystallised. Nothing in the next cupboard. Or the last one. So, anyone for a - whoa. Uh, guys? Is there any bug spray in this place?" 

"How would we know?" asked Sam. "What is it?"

"Need someone big and strong to deal with a spider for you?" Wanda offered, amused.

"Nah, I have plenty of experience handling spid... Huh. That's weird."

Wanda and Sam exchanged a glance, then both headed into the kitchen.

Scott, stretched out and feeling comfortable, didn’t budge. He wasn't quite asleep, but not properly awake either.

Their voices drifted over to him from the kitchen. They were talking about working together to achieve goals, being crazy strong, something unnatural, maybe they're robots, or spies? It wasn't until someone said the word ‘ants’ that he jerked into awareness.

"Whatever they are, we should probably get rid of them," Clint concluded, and suddenly Scott was leaping to his feet.

"Wait wait wait - don't touch them!"

His three associates - teammates? - were standing in the kitchen, staring at the space between the fridge and the doorway where Scott now stood. He followed their gazes down to see a team of ants carrying a can of soda towards the door, working in perfect harmony.

"That's, uh, that's my bad," Scott admitted. He reached down and picked up the can from where the ants were attempting to lift it towards him. "Thanks guys." With a quick thought he sent the ants scattering, to disappear into the peeling paint and rough woodwork of the old house. Then he opened the can and turned back for the sofa.

“Wait, hold up a minute. What do you mean ‘your bad’?” Clint asked as they followed him back into the living room. “Those ants just opened a freaking fridge to get you a drink!”

Scott slumped back into the sofa. “Yeeeeah, you mentioned there was soda, and I started thinking about how much I wanted one but I didn’t want to get up when I’d only just laid down. So, my bad. I wasn’t concentrating.” The three Avengers stared at him as he took a long drink. “What, did you think I was called Ant-man just because I shrink?”

They stared a moment longer before Wanda said “Well… yes?”

Scott frowned. “But I don’t just go ant-sized. I’ve been smaller, once. And I grow, too! I was five-storey-Scott just the other week! That was awesome, I should do that again sometime.”

“This isn’t explaining the ants,” said Clint. He moved away to grab a chair from the dining table, and Wanda followed his lead.

“Wait, that’s what you were riding when you…” Sam stopped himself and coughed. “I mean, the day we met. I could see you but I wasn’t clear on how you were flying about. But it was a flying ant, right?”

“Ant-thony,” Scott agreed. “He was my favourite.”

“That explains so much,” said Sam, dropping onto the sofa beside Scott. “My goggles are designed to enhance focus on certain things - like weapons tech and small pieces of metal flying at me. But they also automatically discard harmless data - like insects.”

“Is it mind control?” Clint asked, and there was an edge to his voice that made Scott pay attention. Wanda looked away.

“No, not at all,” Scott assured him. “It’s more like talking to them, and asking - I can’t make them do anything. I can only tell them what I want and hope they’re amenable. Which at home, they are, because the Pyms have been feeding and looking after their ant colonies for years now. Anywhere else, like out here, it’s a bit more hit and miss. Which is why this was, you know, my bad. I forgot I was even wearing this thing, I definitely didn’t mean to ask the local colony to fetch me a drink.” He pulled the device out of his ear to show them. Hank Pym had refined the design so it was smaller now, fit more snugly into the ear and was less likely to be knocked out during a fight. 

“So if I use that, I can ask insects to fetch me drinks too?” Wanda asked.

“Not insects, just ants. And, well, you could try. Probably wouldn’t work though, it takes a bit to get the hang of it. I didn’t think I was ever going to get it.”

“Show us what you can do then,” she said, and Scott fitted the earpiece back in. He sent out a message to any ants that might be nearby, and soon the living room window was growing dark with the shadow of thousands of tiny ants.

“Whoa,” said Clint.

“What he said,” Sam agreed.

Scott redirected the ants into the house and onto the floor around them. Wanda, Sam and Clint pulled their feet up off the floor as the ants swarmed, seeming to run in random directions. He had them form a few different shapes - a circle, a square, a star, and a complicated mandala-pattern Hope had made him learn. 

“I dunno, that looks a lot like mind control to me,” said Clint.

“It’s not,” said Wanda, and Scott was suddenly unnerved to realise she was watching him, rather than the floor. “I can’t speak for the nature of the device, but he is definitely sending requests, not orders.”

“That’s creepy,” said Scott. “Are you reading our minds all the time? Because that would not be cool.” He let the ants run freely across the floor, they spread out like a dark carpet around them. 

“No, definitely not,” said Wanda. 

She didn’t explain further, and Scott decided he was happy in his ignorance. “Hey Clint, do you mind if we share that stale cereal? These guys deserve some thanks for putting on a show for us.”

“Fine by me. Not like half a box of stale cereal was gonna feed us anyway.”

Scott stood up and the ants cleared a path to the kitchen. He returned with the cereal and scattered a few handfuls across the floor. The ants dashed for the food and began dragging the flakes of dried corn away. 

“So if the Ant-man name comes from being able to work with ants,” Sam said. “What would you be called if all you could do was shrink and grow?”

Scott shrugged. A gruff voice from the corner said “Alice.”

Sam started laughing uncontrollably, and was quickly joined by Clint and Wanda. Scott pouted at Bucky, who ignored him.

Steve opened the door from the other room, only to stop in the doorway. “Okay, I’ve made arrangement’s for - uh, where did all the ants come from?” he asked, eyes widening at the sight.

“What ants?” Scott said innocently, sending them scattering out of sight as they watched. This set the other three off again, Clint almost falling off his chair. Scott just grinned up at Captain America. 

Steve looked across at the only apparently sane person in the room, but Bucky just gave his friend a slow smile. “We’re all mad here.”


End file.
